Trunks' Final Lesson
by Breezytealy
Summary: How do you escape a man who can track you from half the galaxy away? Four short stories depict how Trunks tries to evade his father throughout his childhood.


"Oh oh oh, me first!"

The longest, smoothest span of marbled flooring in the entire Capsule Corporation compound stretched before them. Trunks had uncovered the Archives earlier in the week and spent the last three days dreaming of possibilities in this space. With the arrival of his best friend this weekend, the first leg of his genius-designed Capsule Corp World Tournament was underway.

"Okay Goten, but you gotta _listen_. There are _rules_."

The younger boy nodded furiously, eager. Trunks approved of his audience, relishing the chance to hold court. "You have to run from there-" he pointed to the wall twenty steps away- "to here-" pointing to chalk line he'd made this morning in preparation- "then you've got to jump and _skid_ on that mat thing. Furthest wins." Their slide ran the entire length of the warehouse, a huge potential distance, and there were enough racks of broken machinery and robotics from Trunks' Mom's work on either side to make it interesting. Speed was important, but so was accuracy. A worthy challenge for Saiyan warriors such as themselves.

"Okay okay okay!" Goten skipped to the wall, pushing his back against it to get the biggest run up possible. Trunks shuffled away to give him room, but kept his eye on the chalk line. No way was he going to let his friend cheat.

"THREE! TWO! ONE!" Goten blasted off. Trunks felt the rush of air as he passed, the short run-up severely limiting his final speed but still super-human. He leapt, clearing the chalk and landed squarely on the upside-down mat, the rubber gripping his boots and plush carpeting carrying him off into the distance.

"YEAH!" Two-thirds of the way down the warehouse the mat and boy spun and juddered to a stop. "WOW Trunks!" he yelled, voice echoing, "that was so cool! I did pretty good, huh?" It _was_ an impressive score. Goten jogged back to the start, the mat fluttering above his head as he held it up.

"A record so far Goten!" _But I can do better._ "Watch me now!"

Goten diligently watched the chalk line, Trunks composing himself at the start. "GO!"

Trunks was determined, using all his might to push off. He definitely outpaced Goten, but his start was fast, too fast, his strides too long. The line approached sooner than expected. He tried to compensate by slowing but he over-rotated, landing awkwardly on the mat which caused him to careen off, arms pinwheeling, spinning wildly.

"Watch out, Trunks!"

He snapped to Goten's frantic pointing. A rack full of worn tyres towered over him. He couldn't stop.

"WOAH!"

 _CRASH!_

The nearest three stacks buckled, toppling as one and collapsing on him. He only winced at the impact, his Saiyan genes saving his neck from what would otherwise be serious injury.

In a temper he burst out the pile, tyres fleeing as he kicked them away, fuming at the loss of the challenge. Goten joined him to survey the devastation. It hadn't finished. Trunks' frustration had knocked yet another few stacks and they watched them teeter, hearing the creak as it began to fall. Not wanting to see how much worse it could get they booked it out the main entrance, wheels with minds of their own bouncing merrily around them. Trunks' heart was hammering. This was not a good turn of events; the tournament would have to be postponed. The clamouring behind them faded into the distance.

"Shush."

"But Trunks-" hissed Goten.

"SHUSH." Trunks slammed his finger onto his lips, urging Goten to be quiet. His smaller friend mimicked the motion with a serious face and nodded. If they weren't quiet it wouldn't take long for someone to appear. "Make your ki go, too," Trunks whispered, "they can't find us then."

His friend squeezed his face in concentration. Goten's ki, his vast reserve of life force, flickered and died back in on itself to the point Trunks couldn't sense him anymore. He wasn't as practised as Trunks yet so it took him longer, but he did a good job, and Trunks nodded his approval.

"Should we hide?" Goten mouthed. Trunks rubbed his chin in thought. A useful suggestion, his friend could be smart for a five-year-old. The couches in the lounge for his Mom's business partners were close enough to get to to hide under but far enough away to not be too suspicious. Only one corridor to get down, but a blind corner at the end. They were going to have to be super-sneaky.

Trunks waved for Goten to follow him down the hall. They had to be careful. Only a few staff worked at the weekend and luckily for them none were in or around the Archives today it seemed. He knew his parents weren't in this part of the compound either but his Dad was really good at knowing things. It was like he could read minds. He made sure to think happy, non-destructive thoughts just in case.

The boys were on high alert. They inched along, the only sound their clothes and hair scratching the wall as they shimmied against it. They held their breath for good measure. The corner loomed, the uncertainty behind it prickling the hairs on the back of Trunks' neck. Anyone could be lying in wait. Trunks signalled to show he'd take the responsibility to check, the burden of a leader. He swallowed his fear, leaning one eye out from cover.

A movement, a menacing, growing shadow fast approached. Startled, Trunks back-pedalled and fell into Goten.

"AAAH!" Both boys clapped a hand to the other's mouth, unable to suppress their surprise. But the shadow, far from the terrifying figure of Trunks' Dad they'd feared, morphed as it rounded the corner into the family cat. He meowed at them both.

"Scratch, shush!" Implored Trunks, the high-pitched mewling likely to attract attention. Scratch ignored the boy to paw at his leg, begging for a head rub. Now was really not the time. Trunks was immune to his shining, pleading eyes, especially when on a mission as desperate as this, but Goten was susceptible.

"Here kitty," Goten whispered, "I have some pets for you."

"Goten, focus!" Exasperation was creeping into his voice, his friend shirking his rear-guard duty and leaving them vulnerable. Goten reluctantly withdrew his hand, sulking, and limply watched a scorned Scratch saunter away to continue his patrol.

"Do you think he'll tell on us?" mumbled Goten.

"No, he's good like that. And I don't think my Dad speaks Cat." Trunks breathed a sigh of relief. No one had come running at their yell meaning a cursory glance around the now less imposing corner would be enough. "Coast's clear. Let's go."

They bolted across the corridor from the corner, the lounge already open. The room was fancy and cosy, with wooden floors and solid furniture and the kind of plush cushions that you sank into to nap. Comfort aside the lounge was for grown-ups to argue over money and was otherwise boring enough that Trunks hardly ever visited. Even the magazines were for grown-ups, full of pictures of houses and beaches and not a comic strip in sight. No one would think to look for them here.

They were thankfully alone. Goten skipped around to find the best couch to hide under whilst Trunks gently closed the door to, careful to not make a sound. He snuck to the far end of the room at his friend's wave and they dived under the chaise lounge. The gap was tighter than they thought.

"Aargh Trunks, your elbow..."

"Move up!"

"I can't, you breathe in more!"

The lounge door crashed open. Both boys sank lower to the floor, quarrel forgotten. Footsteps wobbled the floorboards, making the boys shake with every thud. The steps got louder, more irritable, then stopped behind them.

Trunks tried to get a look at the intruder, the confined space making it difficult to turn. A pair of familiar, faded combat boots had ominously stopped by the couch, staring as impatiently as boots can. Maybe they'd gone unnoticed?

Silence. A heartbeat. Then an ice cold grip on his leg. No time to react. He was dragged backwards, fingers squealing on the wooden flooring and was hoisted four foot in the air. Goten was next to him in the same predicament flailing in surprise but Trunks knew, by the upside-down face glaring at him, resistance was futile. Vegeta, his father, had caught them. He was a frightening man most days, permanently frowning or looking for something hard to punch when he wasn't trying to murder Trunks with 'training'. Now, staring Trunks down, he was merely calm - and that was somehow worse.

"You have _one_ chance."

 _So he doesn't know_. Despite the alarm bells Trunks failed to suppress a smirk.

"We were only playing sardines in here." He shrugged, a surprisingly difficult move when upside-down he discovered. Goten caught Trunks' intention and froze mid-wriggle, nodding in agreement.

"You mean to say if I continue on my walk to the Archives I _won't_ find a mess?" Vegeta raised a deadly eyebrow.

Trunks swallowed. He'd read his mind again. Or Goten's. Trunks suspected Goten.

"Someone else might have done it?" he offered.

"Yeah, Trunks didn't knock anything over!" Goten did not help.

His father snorted like an angry bull. "That was two chances, two more than you deserved." Vegeta released them both. They landed heavily in a heap, winded. "You can learn how to control yourselves in your room. Time-out."

* * *

Trunks swung the door open and Mai, who had patiently kept her eyes covered the entire way over, blinked in the lights of the corridor, desperate to see inside the room.

"I know you love technology, so." Trunks flicked the light switch and gave his smoothest nonchalant shrug.

One of his Mom's many workshops strobed into view. This one had a Capsuler, a complex cacophony of metal and glass used to shrink and store in capsules anything from food to houses. It hummed with electricity and chirped like a bird, always on and ready to run. Mai's eyes lit up. She looked so pretty when she smiled.

"And your Mom's okay with us trying it out?" Said Mai excitedly, with some measure of apprehension.

"Oh sure, she listens to me, she's cool with it." Trunks gave his widest, most-honest smile. Mai bought it enough to cross the threshold and glide across to the machine.

"Thank you so much, Trunks! You're so sweet."

His heart skipped at the praise. "No problem, you're my friend, that's what friends do. Being friends." He remembered to comb his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, of course." Mai was running her hands over the console, lost in thought, absorbing the controls. She was so smart, too. "Did you have something you want to try? It looks like it'll only work on objects our size or smaller."

He hadn't planned that far ahead. Trunks scanned the room. By a workbench was a tattered swivel-chair, fabric ripped and foam exposed. "How about that?"

Mai appraised their test subject. "Looks good. We can leave it out of the capsule after so your Mom can find it." Mai rooted on through the chaotic workbench for a free capsule whilst Trunks wheeled the chair over.

"Wait." She leant down to press on a thick, buttoned sticker to the column of the chair, her hair falling delicately across her face as she aligned it perfectly. "Nearly forgot the collapse matrix. Go."

Trunks slid the chair into glass box so it was visible from the console, carefully shutting the door to keep it airtight. Mai slotted the capsule into a receptacle near the door, jumped up to the controller's chair and began to press buttons.

"It's a simple shrink with a type one capsule," she said distractedly, "it only needs defaults, so good to try out." She frowned in thought, checking everything over then turned to him, radiant. "Shall we?"

The large green button beckoned. Her hand was now on it ready, waiting. Trunks' own hand hovered. "Well?" He was thirteen now. Time to be a man. He lay his hand on hers, barely touching, swallowing his nerves. They pressed together and the machine beeped happily. He snatched his hand away at the tingle he'd felt in his hand, staring pointedly through the window at the chair and hoping Mai didn't notice. Her reflection in the glass said otherwise. She was quietly smiling, and he felt his face burn.

The Capsuler whirled, the 'cheep cheep' of the machine amplified by a building low hum and vibration. The chair inside was glowing white, the edges warping. Mai was mesmerised, but Trunks' mind was elsewhere. Now was going to be the best time. He straightened his T-shirt and opted to move to the end of the console, casually resting against the side of the Capsuler to emphasise his indifference to the question he was going to ask.

"So Mai, it's no big deal or anything but do you want-" Mai's attention snapped to him with a look of horror. She reached desperately for him.

"Don't lean-!" Trunks jumped back at Mai's warning but it was too late. A lever by his shoulder clunked. A short siren screamed, a red light flashed. Smoke, freezing, white and acrid, roared and flooded the room. They instinctively dropped to the floor and held their breath, invisible to each other for a moment. The gas billowed outward and rose quickly, evacuated by the ceiling fans. They breathed out, Trunks relieved it wasn't an explosion.

"You hit the emergency stop," Mai said in resignation, climbing to her feet, "it quenches the magnet. That was the helium..."

"I didn't see it! They really should have made it more obvious," said Trunks hotly. If it was clearly marked he wouldn't have leant there. "Who doesn't make an emergency switch red?"

Mai held her face in her hands. "We'll have to tell your Mom, it'll take at least a day to reset. This is so bad." Trunks paled. She noticed. "You didn't get your Mom's permission, did you?"

Feeling guiltier than he had in his entire life, he shook his head.

" _Trunks_!" She whined.

"Hey! I thought-" _I was doing you a favour? Thought you'd be impressed?_ It all sounded lame in is head, so he trailed off. The idea of this leading to a date had completely backfired.

Mai resignedly pressed her face against the reinforced glass to see inside as the mist cleared. Trunks joined her, his stomach falling into a pit. The chair was part shrunken on one side, the capsule cracked. Both were now useless. If caught here they were toast. He quickly checked through ki-sensing that his Dad was still in the gravity training room nearby. Trunks knew there was only one way to survive and time was of the essence. "I'm sorry, Mai."

He grabbed her hand, dragging her away from the machine against her protestations and they started to run, Mai taking a few seconds to sense the urgency. Trunks slammed his ki output down to zero, knowing that he would be simple to track otherwise. He knew Mai wasn't able to do the same thing but her ki was completely human and wouldn't stand out, to his Dad at any rate. They should be able to get some distance and deniability when asked later.

They took a zigzag route, dodging staff all the while, left one building across a walkway and entered another, and continued running. By the time they reached the top of a random set of stairs deep in Engineering and started down yet another corridor Mai was breathing heavily with the effort. "Trunks!" she hissed, knowing not to make any more noise than they had to, "where are we going?"

The lack of ki was making sprinting difficult for him, too. "Just away," he panted, "and away from Dad."

No sooner had he said it a familiar, ominous figure stepped out from a doorway halfway down the corridor, arms folded, livid. Trunks clambered backwards in shock, wheezing.

"Oh? Getting away from _me_ were you?" Vegeta crowed, "what were you doing with the Capsuler exactly?" _He knew! HOW? How did he get here? How did he find me?_

"Now I know what you're going to say, Dad-" Trunks began catching his breath, opting for a casual, rational tone.

"Oh, how touching, you think I'm going to listen." His father was not in a negotiating mood.

"-but we've _actually_ uncovered a design flaw in the machine and-"

"Running your mouth isn't going to save you."

"-besides, I'm _way_ too old to send to-"

"Time out. Now."

* * *

Their walk back together was just as pleasant as the midnight jaunt. Very few people passed the pair of sophmores on the streets, and those that did didn't give him a second glance, a rare event for Trunks. His purple bowl-cut, his most recognisable feature, was covered by a beanie hat and the gloom hid the rest of his face. Or, it could be they were too distracted by Zue's fluorescent yellow rain-mac ("just in case!" she'd said) to pay him any mind. Either way it was freeing to be out this late.

Although, sneaking out to hang out with a girl - no matter how exciting - was not without its drawbacks for Trunks. He'd been suppressing his ki all night to go undetected and consequently was now freezing, even in the warmth of the summer night. Trunks had gone from chivalrously carrying Zue's picnic blanket to wearing it. It wouldn't help much, but it was at least something to try.

"I still can't believe that last one! It was huge!" Excited, Zue had been gushing about the meteors all the way back.

"Yeah, like a firework."

"Did you know, if they're brighter than Venus they're called a fireball?" He wished her enthusiasm could warm him as it usually did.

"Was that one a fireball then?"

Zue squinted at the sky. "I'm not sure. Is Venus around this time of night?" She quickly gave up her search and shrugged. "I'll check it out later."

They'd reached the outer wall of Capsule Corp, Zue's apartment a few blocks further north. They stopped under the streetlight they'd arranged to meet before creeping off to the park lakes to watch the shower, their first date over.

"Are you okay Trunks? You seem distant."

"Fine, more than fine, just cold. And need to get in soon; I don't want my Dad to know I'm out here. He's kind of psychic about these things."

"Psychic?" She tilted her head playfully. "You _can't_ believe that?"

He instinctively wrapped the blanket around him tighter and tried not to shiver openly.

"I know it doesn't make sense, I'm really not sure what I think. Way too many coincidences."

"...And having a 'psychic' Dad means you're cold."

"Um," Trunks wasn't even close to telling her the truth of his family yet, and couldn't wriggle himself out of this one gracefully, "yes?"

She stared perplexed. Trunks held his breath. After the longest nervewrecking moment she gave in and broke the silence with a giggle. "Right well, I better go."

"Are you sure still? I could walk you home." He cursed his automatic response.

"No. Thank you though." She smiled. "You'd attract way too much attention if someone saw you in my building, even with the hat." She flexed her arms in jest. "I'm a big girl anyway, I can take care of my self."

Trunks didn't doubt it. "I had a great time," at least that was honest, "the meteors were beautiful. And I'd never seen the lakes at night like that. Thanks for asking me out tonight but, next time can we meet during the day?"

Zue tapped her cheek. "Oh I don't know. The city's more interesting at night. Best time for a date I think. The company was worth the danger." She hovered, then darted forward and kissed him on the cheek. He was pleasantly surprised at her forwardness, but kept calm.

Her bashful look faded into concern. "Wow, you _are_ cold," she frowned. "You sure you're not catching a chill?"

"Feeling great, honestly, just need to get inside." He carefully placed the blanket around her shoulders and returned the kiss, brushing her curls away from her cheek, gentle but robotic, desperate not to feel any emotion. "See you at school tomorrow?"

Blush returned she squeezed his hand in goodbye, a yes, then started back home. She looked over her shoulder to wave as she disappeared around the curve of the compound wall. He was alone.

Trunks leant against the wall and let himself shiver. Any other time their goodbye would have been exhilarating and he would have warmed at her kiss, excited about the prospect of seeing her again, but he had to keep perfectly calm. He'd kept his ki low all day and then rock bottom for the past two hours so his father wouldn't notice him sneaking off. It meant he was distracted and stiff all night in concentration and grew colder as the night wore on. He was extremely grateful for the blankets and hot chocolate Zue fortuitously brought, and he'd sat scandalously close to her to feel warmer, which, given their goodbye, must have gone down well. _Good going Trunks, you have better game when actively trying not to._

He couldn't simply release his ki now either. He'd have to take an hour raising it slowly again to not set off his Dad's psychic alarm bells. The quicker he could get back to his room the quicker he could start the process then go to sleep. He just had to get back _in_ first.

The fifteen-foot boundary wall would be no trouble ordinarily. He could vault it in one clean jump with ki support, straight fly over it or, with onlookers, feign climbing whilst pressing himself against the wall with his ki. On his way out he'd climbed a tree. Now he only had his muscles (albeit well-trained), rubber soles and one divot twelve feet up on the convex wall, barely visible in the streetlight glare.

Trunks crossed the empty road to get a sprinting run-up and turned with a shudder. _Here goes nothing_. He built up speed - unbearably slow and short-strided compared to his usual pace but enough - and leapt. Left foot, right foot, left hand in the gap and stretch - an inch away from the top of the wall. _Crap_. He instinctively braced for the fall.

The concrete winded him, his ankle twinging on impact. Keeping a lid on his ki proved barely manageable as it fought him to rush out and assess the damage but he'd have to live with it. He sat for a moment, breathing deeply, rotating his foot to loosen the strain the old-fashioned way. All things considered he'd had worse. He resigned himself to walking off the pain preparing for his next run up.

His second attempt was thankfully more successful, ending in him swinging with three fingers over the lip in a dead hang, hugging the wall. That was enough. One pull and scramble upwards and his left arm and elbow were over the edge, then his chest, and he could roll on top. He lay panting. The strain had warmed his muscles but he was still shivering, looking for all the world feverish. He wiped the strands of hair that had fallen from under his beanie away from his eyes and laughed. He'd made it. Now he just needed to creep back to his open window and then-

"Boy."

 _No._

His father cut a figure in the shadows waiting precisely below him, drumming his fingers on his arm, glowering upward. Vegeta addressed his son with all the dripping condescension of a drill instructor.

 _No no no no no_

"This has to be the strangest sleepwalking trip you've ever taken. The front gate would have sufficed."

 _How did he know-_

"'How did he know where I was?'" Trunks reeled. "You think your training means you understand how this works now?" He tapped his temple. "But I'm psychic boy, don't forget. Time-out."

Vegeta didn't even wait for a response, leaving Trunks swaying on top of the wall. He'd done everything he could possible think of, prepared all day, had almost given himself hypothermia with the effort and still...

"OH COME ON!"

* * *

Something felt wrong. Like walking into a room you'd locked behind you and finding all the furniture moved three inches to the left. Trunks stopped eating his breakfast at the unnerving sensation. Something was out of place and it was setting off alarm bells. His suspicions were confirmed when his father paused chewing, sat stop-still, his eyes darting like a cat's. It wasn't random paranoia. He'd felt it to. That meant serious trouble.

With a rising panic, Trunks focused on the ki around him to locate the problem consciously, expecting to feel the brightness of a new alien threat from half the world away barrelling towards them. But there was nothing. Vegeta however did not look relieved.

"Out east?" He asked thickly through a mouthful of porridge.

Trunks' mother sighed from the couch, knee-deep in breakfast paperwork. "Warehouse fifteen is on lock-down today, the new copter design's inside."

"Hn." Vegeta swallowed, roughly dropped the spoon into his bowl and threw his chair away from the table to stand. The balcony doors were already open to let in a breeze, but Vegeta slammed them back as he passed, stepping up onto the narrow balcony rail. Not unusual behaviour when the man's meal had been interrupted.

"Coming?" His question wasn't a request. Vegeta stepped forward into the air and fell.

Trunks reluctantly left the safety of his breakfast, passed his mother's unnerving smile and vaulted the rail. It was a huge thirty-foot drop, but his body automatically re-directed ki to his legs and spine to absorb the shock of the landing. His father was standing on the grass staring towards the warehouse his Mom had mentioned, arms folded, scanning the compound.

"Suppress your ki." Trunks obeyed, his father's flickering out simultaneously. "Take this as a late birthday present from me," he said without looking at Trunks, "what do you feel."

Confused more than panicked now, but knowing better than to question his father, Trunks checked again, frowning.

"Nothing. No one's coming."

"I'll speak plainer," Vegeta said patiently, "who _don't_ you sense?"

He closed his eyes to better feel the ripples of ki around him. The city still thrived. He sensed their friends in turn, some far beneath him across the globe. A few ki were elevated, but Trunks was experienced enough to know they were only at evening training. Everything was normal. His Dad's, his Mom's, his-

"Where's Bra?" _That's_ what had set him on edge. His four year-old sister had vanished.

"Good. And?"

Goten's niece was visiting today to play. He remembered sensing her arrival an hour ago.

"Pan's gone too."

Vegeta nodded. Someone's ki going out like a light would usually be ominous but his father didn't seem that concerned. Trunks hazarded a guess.

"You think they're suppressing their ki too?"

Vegeta began striding across the gardens towards the eastern warehouses. "Don't think, know."

"But-" Trunks skipped to keep up- "if they're not releasing ki-"

"The same way I subvert your pitiful attempts at evasion."

 _Holy crap_. Trunks nearly tripped in shock.

"So wait, you're _not_ psychic?"

Vegeta didn't answer, which was probably for the best given what the response to that would be. Instead they continued their march, reaching Development's cluster of warehouses soon after. Vegeta signalled for Trunks to be silent and slowly pulled open the door to the connecting maze of corridors. They stepped inside. The corridor was just as muted, the hum of the fluorescent lighting the only disturbance.

"Concentrate now," Vegeta said softly, "what do you see?"

"Just the usual background and-" The maelstrom of ki from the city ebbed and flowed through the corridors, a subtle turbulence, like light dappled on the bottom of a swimming pool. But- and he nearly didn't catch it but there it was, a disturbance in the pattern, a shadow, a void. Two voids. Two small, child-shaped voids sneaking along the next corridor towards them. Trunks' jaw dropped.

"Excellent." muttered his father. "Now deal with it." Vegeta shoved him forward, causing Trunks to stagger. He looked back, unsure, to see his father expectant. "Well?"

Trunks returned to the task he'd been assigned and held the voids he'd sensed in his mind. They were there, the girls were definitely there and now he'd seen them, their negative impression as they snuck through the background of ki was plain as day. He crept forward himself, hugging the wall. Nearing the corner he faintly heard the girls shuffling down the corridor, whispering and shushing each other, not nearly as quiet as they'd hoped. Despite himself, the corner of his mouth began to twitch.

Moments before they would reach him Trunks stepped out triumphantly, arms behind his back, unable to suppress the smirk on his face.

The girls stopped, eyes like saucers. Silence. Slowly, they turned on their heels.

Their retreat was fast. Trunks was faster. He snatched a vice-like hold on an upper arm each that they couldn't wriggle out of. "Nope! No running."

"We weren't doing nothing!" Bra yelled, doing her best to twist his arm.

"We were just playing!" Added Pan, equally aggrieved.

Trunks remembered his mother's words before they left the den and the final pieces of the lifelong, tortuous puzzle he'd endured clicked into place. "You've done something to the copter in fifteen, haven't you?"

Abject fear and horror crossed their faces. Despite their best efforts, he'd guessed correctly.

"We didn't mean to!"

"It just broke a little!"

"They weren't even paying attention!"

Trunks let them protest on and on, him more in giddy shock than listening. They finally ran out of steam and slumped. He released them. Then, in the midst of an out-of-body experience, Trunks watched himself say the immortal words.

"Time-out."

Pan inhaled sharply in distress, whereas Bra, cheeks puffed, glared impetuously.

"But _you_ can't-"

"Do as your brother says." Vegeta's disembodied voice echoed from the next corridor. Both girls shivered in fright, Bra recovering quickly enough to stamp her foot, grab Pan's hand and march them both past Trunks and Vegeta, heading to her room.

Trunks stared after them light-headed. He followed them around the corner, watching the echo of himself and Goten running with tails between their legs.

Vegeta clapped a hand to his shoulder, causing him to start. His father spoke lowly to him only.

"To be completely hidden from me you need to not just suppress your energy but _allow the energy around you to pass through you._ Otherwise if I look hard enough for your pathetic shadow I _will_ find you."

Trunks turned his head slowly, open-mouthed.

"And here ends our final lesson. Welcome to adulthood. Use this new-found privacy wisely." Vegeta shoved him playfully and walked off to check the damage in the warehouse, cackling maniacally to himself. Over the sound of the whirring cogs in his head Trunks overheard his sister and friend argue as they traipsed towards time-out. Bra was indignant.

"I _told_ you my family's psychic."


End file.
